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Latest Sep-24 by bshmr
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It has been a long time since for me but 'red' didn't seem right for you though I stocked both as I recall (AIR) from 5 decades ago. So, I did some QaD research <G>. Why not 'blue'? Price/benefit ratio?
Interesting ... checking more the blue label is 100 proof instead of 80, bit higher alcohol, apparently flammable and just a bit more expensive. I'll give it a try if I run across it.
I like Smirnoff, it's got a clean taste and it made the USofA.
ZinZin loved the tuna tartare. We'll see how that works out,
You takes some sashimi-grade tuna, dice it up, toss it according to taste with a mix of sesame oil , soy sauce, hot sesame oil , rice vinegar, chili garlic sauce ... mmm .... needs more spice. Sriracha! Mayo. Salt. Pepper. Panko for crunch.
Plenty left for dinner while tasting to get it right!
All-American salad, slices of mango, olive oil and vinegar.
Toast: olive oil, dusting of garlic and cumin.
The 100/Blue will have a sharper taste or bit more bite though a lot depends on how one drinks it -- just like all alcohol drinks. If you drink it straight-up or with a twist, you will notice; yet, hidden in a flavored cocktail keep in mind, it has 25% more kick.
Triggers lots of memories that seem so distance now.
One of may favorites is a generous amount of Vodka with tonic and a squirt of lime,
I'll give it a try but cut down on the generous I guess.
Went and bought two zebra finches, white zebras, without the markings. She is a lady, pure white and soft, a class act, while he's a bit of a ruffian with some pale markings and an uneven bar across the front.
They've been acting rather frantic lately, what with all the mating and screechy crowing, and trying to stick odd pieces of feathers and paper to their roosts. A nest, a nest, we need a nest! So I relent and get them a nest.
I'm clumsy, they're fluttering around in the tiny cage, but it isn't two minutes after I finish that he hops into the nest, arranging the shredded pieces of cloth I gave them for bedding. He makes strange sounds from the bottom of the nest, she cranes to look in, he pops up with the bedding in his beak, scaring her back. Takes a half an hour for her to finally inspect the interior and begin to rearrange the furnishings.
Now they decide to move out, only to discover there is no other nest available, so the bedding has to go back in. She puts it in, he takes it out, and they fight over it. The couple's first fight. Then he starts crowing, she flutters her tail feathers, they make up. When I turn down the lights, they disappear into the nest.
... not much later:
I am teaching basic electronics to a class of 18/19-year old recruits not much younger than me: resistors, capacitors, transformers, diodes, cathodes and such, how to put them together for your basic AM radio. We're at the point where all the parts of a working radio come together on a board.
Ohoh, I'm missing a tube! I appoint one of the young ones to run to the office down the hall and get the missing fallopian tube. There are a couple of snickers from the class, I give them a disapproving look. The kid comes back flustered and red-faced, they said they were fresh out of fallopian tubes and everyone was laughing?
Well then. We'll have to do without. I put the finishing touches to the radio, close the switch. Much static. I tune it a bit and there is music from a local radio station. Applause all around!
The music stops:
We interrupt this broadcast for an important announcement ... President Kennedy has been shot in Dallas, he's being rushed to a local hospital ...
I've recently discovered my Tab A lets me doodle ...
Astor Place: Heavy pedestrian traffic funnels through snow remnants at the corner. People are forced to cross a piled-up industrial carpet covered with a rubber mat, strategically placed at the crossing. I sidle closer, address the mound: "So. You're back again!" The rather heavy-set woman struggling across tries not to let me know she knows I'm a weirdo, and misses the barely perceptible movement of the pile.
First time I saw him was some three, four years ago when I stepped across a similar mound near a construction site. It didn't feel right, visions of dead bodies came to mind. I wondered what to do. There was a pause in traffic, the carpets fell open, a very healthy-looking young man dashed to the corner news stand, bought a pack of gum, and dove back into the pile. Noticed him several times since, the last time this past summer when a panicked lady screamed for the cops after feeling a movement below her feet. I watched them talk to him, he straightened his jacked, adjusted his cap, and disappeared up the avenue.
Today I stay for a only a few minutes. There are a some funny looks from people as they make their way across; one knows. He steps over the carpets, notices me watching and shakes his head. "There's someone in there."
I do have other things to do and head south, down the avenue.